


Not for Me

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:01:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5268848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based of teamfreewillimagines: Imagine telling Dean that you’re pregnant and the first words that come out of his mouth are “I don’t want it”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not for Me

 

You go racing towards Dean, excitement pulling at your stomach and a positive pregnancy test in laying in wait in your back pocket. This certainly wasn’t planned, but, for you, this is something you never thought would be possible. Months of secret gyno visits to find out what was messing with your period lead to them discovering the beginning of premature menopause. The doctors made it clear that this could severely impact your fertility for years or your whole life. Before you were diagnosed you never even considered children, but the fact that you may never be able to have your own sparked that want. Now, the day has finally come, and you’re floating on air. You launch your arms around Dean’s neck and give him a quick kiss on the check. Dean stands up from his chair and nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving chaste kisses down to your clavicle. As much as you’d like nothing more than to enjoy this moment there is a more pressing matter at hand.

 

“Dean, I have some good news!” Your smile is so wide it looks like it could crack your face wide open.

 

“Yeah?” Dean smirks as he watches the light dancing in your eyes and at the warmth that seemed to surround you.

 

“I’m pregnant!” You pull out the pregnancy test, displaying the cross on the stick.

 

Dean grabs the stick and stares at it without moving a muscle. For that moment you can’t tell if he is shocked that he can’t move or that he is furious but doesn’t want to show it. Jaw clenched, shoulders squared, and a disgusted look is enough to tell you what Dean is feeling, but it doesn’t prepare you for his harsh words.

 

“I don’t want it.”

 

“Dean, you can’t possibly mean that...I know this wasn’t exactly planned but...”

 

“I do, and,” Dean pushes past you and head out toward the garage. “I think you should leave, Y/N.”

 

Dean walks out to the garage and fights back the anger, and aching in his heart as he listens to you sob in the other room. He waits until your cries disappear further into the bunker before he punches the wall. That look on your face of betrayal and anger is burning its’ way into his memory. Dean wants to go back, to make it better, to soothe the hurt he caused, but he can't. He won't. He takes one final look at your positive pregnancy test and solidifies his plan.

 

“Dean, what's going on? Why's Y/N packing her stuff?” Sam forces his way in front of Dean, backing Dean into a corner. It doesn't take long for him to recognise the familiar pain behind Dean’s eyes.

 

“She has to go. I-I can't--she needs to go.”

 

“Why?” Sam is not going to let Dean of the hook without letting him know what's going on.

 

“Y/N’s pregnant.”

 

“Isn't that what you always wanted?” Sam shifts onto his other side. “I mean, both of us have always wanted that at some point; to have families of our own. Plus, you have been planning to propose. You’re just going to toss aside your second chance at a normal life?”

 

“It may be what I want,” Dean lowers his head, tears sliding down his cheeks. “but I can't have it. That baby is going to become collateral. We don’t really have a track record of making friends. I won’t put..I’m not going to make the same choice he did. I’m not going to be selfish. ” His voice breaks, and Sam wraps his sobbing brother in his arms.

 

Sam tries his best to comfort Dean, fully understanding why you are leaving. His heart sympathizes with the you and Dean. All either of you want is a family, and right when it could be yours, reality sets in. Hunting is no life for children to be raised in. But, at the same time, Sam wonders if Dean is being more selfish by tossing Y/N aside without explanation instead of bringing her close.

 

You finish packing your things, everything fitting inside of a small and worn down, medium sized luggage. With a little bit of hope still present in your bosom, you seek Dean out. Even though you make your presence known, Dean refuses to even say goodbye. He doesn’t even acknowledge you shouting his name, only sipping away at his third beer. Head hung and with your hand on your belly you leave the bunker, headed to your parents home, hoping they don't ask too many questions. Dean waits until he can't hear your car anymore before he shuts his eyes and rests his head on the table. He spends the rest of his night in a state in between sleep and wakefulness, unable to truly relax until he drowns himself in booze.

 

Address in hands, Dean drives towards a colonial style home on the end lot of the street. His heart is racing, beating away in his ears, putting his nerves on edge. The closer he gets to your home the more his stomach tighten and the nassau, that he has been pushing down, rises to the middle of Dean’s throat. He parks a few houses down and instantly feels his heart drop. Dean’s son, now six years old, plays in the tiny toddler’s pool in the front yard. He looks just like Dean, a near spitting image. Dean smiles as he hears the small child giggle in glee as he splashes in the water.

 

In that moment, his heart falls deeper into his stomach than he thought possible. You walk out the door, belly round; legs swollen. A man, about Sam’s age, walks out the house, guiding you down the stairs so you don’t topple over. Dean finds himself wishing that he hadn't pushed you away, that he had just reached out to you all those nights he would lie awake, wondering how you were. He could have had all this. The nice house, a perfect relationship, and a child to call his own. Yet, here you are, smiling and content, in your storybook house with someone that isn't him.

 

Dean finds himself watching until the night starts to creep on your house. You shuffle the chubby toddler out of the pool and into a large beach towel. The little boy squeals with delight and tries to run back into pool. You chase after him, acting like a painfully slow monster, until you grab him in your arms and carry him back into the house. Dean sees a final glimpse of you through the window as you kiss your new partner.

 

Long after the lights were shut off in your house, Dean is still waiting outside. He has barely moved an inch. Despite the persistent grumbling in his stomach and the excruciating headache, Dean still won't move. His phone vibrates, for the fifteenth time, against his leather seats and he instantly silences after briefly seeing Sam’s name. Dean doesn't need, or want, Sam hounding him about if visiting you is really the best idea. For either of you.

 

When the morning sun starts to break over the horizon Dean drives away from your home, your new family, and any possibility of becoming the father that he always wanted to be, evaporating with every yard he drives. As Dean drives out of the state line the sun bounces off a small, plain, black box on your porch. Inside is a tiny piece of Dean for both you and your son. There are two journals he had kept all this time, each containing everything he wished he could tell the both of you. Dean’s dreams, what he imagined life together would be like, and all of the tiny milestones he missed. At the end of the journal there is a special message addressed to you:

 

Y/N,

No amounts of apologizing will make up for everything I put you through. Nothing ever will. I should have been there, but I couldn't justify it. Having a family would have put you in such a vulnerable position that I couldn't live with the thought of losing either of you. You've seen the shit we've gone through, and that is only a small portion of it. My world is no place for children. Our son deserves a safe, monster free home to grow up in. I wouldn't have been able to provide that for either of you. I wish I could turn back time to, at least, explain, but I don't regret my decision. You've found a happy home, formed a family with someone who can give you everything. Trust me, I checked him out, and he seems like a decent guy. I hope you’ll give our son the other journal, so that one day he'll understand why I'm not around, and don't plan on being. I love you, Y/N, and I think I always will. Be safe.

Dean Winchester

 

Underneath those journals, is a small envelope addressed to your new partner. All it reads is:

 

Keep them safe. Keep them happy. Keep them close.

  
  



End file.
